


juxta

by armethaumaturgy



Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: Armatization, Hand Jobs, M/M, Post Game, no spoilers tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-03-20
Packaged: 2018-10-08 08:38:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10382748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/armethaumaturgy/pseuds/armethaumaturgy
Summary: Mikleo wants to feel closer tonight, as close as they can. Sorey understands.





	

**Author's Note:**

> armatized fics are honestly,, ,, ,, a blessing ,, ,,, hi ,,,

Featherlight fingers ghost over ivory skin, leaving countless goosebumps in their wake. Mikleo's breath comes in short puffs, half-lidded eyes gazing down with no shortage of adoration in them.

His arms tremble where they hold him upright, so he instead braces his feet on the covers, reaching up and wrapping the lanky appendages around Sorey's shoulders, pulling him down for their lips to meet again. Mikleo breathes a soft sigh into the tender press, opening his mouth to allow Sorey's tongue inside. Sorey's fingers are still skimming over his chest, too firm to be tickling. For once.

Instead they leave the Seraph feeling hot, his skin set ablaze wherever Sorey touches.

His arms tighten, eyes looking up at the boy with desire written all over his face; from the puffy, swollen lips, reddened cheeks and ears, up to those pink eyes, practically swimming with desire.

"I want to be closer," he whispers, his voice hoarse and soft.

Sorey's hands slip down to Mikleo's hips, thumbs hooking in the waistline and a laugh falling off his equally puffy lips.

"Want me to get rid of this?" Sorey asks, tracing the protrusion of Mikleo's hip bone with one thumb.

Mikleo shivers at the simple touch alone, but he shakes his head, fingers playing with the short hair at the nape of Sorey's neck.

"I mean," he mutters, twisting his head sideways and hiding it in the surprisingly soft inn pillow, hoping Sorey wouldn't catch sight of the blush on his cheeks, "even closer than that… I—"

Something akin to understanding flashes in Sorey's yes as his own cheeks deepen a few shades. "Is that what you want?"

Mikleo holds his breath, nodding into the pillow softly. Sorey can feel his hips shaking in anticipation.

"I love you, Luzrov Rulay," Sorey whispers, and Mikleo whimpers shakily, dissipating into nothingness, into Sorey.

Into _them_.

Sorey feels the tremor that runs through them from his words. His child-like amusement and adoration fill them next. And then it's hard to tell what comes from who, just that they crumple forward onto the bed, their hair splaying around in a wild mess.

' _You feel like home,_ ' one thinks, and they're both thinking it, both gasping out into the pillow as they roll to their side. Their hands are shaking as they work on pulling away the fabric covering them, far too desperate, needy, cute — _damn you, Sorey_ — to wait any longer.

Sweat clings to their skin, makes their already long and obstructive hair doubly so as it sticks to them, tickling the exposed skin.

It takes far too long to wiggle out of the pants, leaving them in a heap next to the bed as they settle back down, cold night air cooling their fevered skin, if only a little.

_ Want you, love you… _

The blurred, voiceless words swarming their head are as heavy as the breath they release feels. They're already hard, twitching even as their hand moves down to wrap slender fingers around the hot flesh, the other coming up to their face, hiding their chin after learning they couldn't quite breathe without their mouth unobstructed.

_One of Mikleo's quirks_. They smile around a low moan, fingers gliding up their length from the base, dragging the soft skin along.

_"It's not a quirk_ ," comes somewhere from within them, neither of them aware that it had been vocalized.

Embarrassment from Mikleo and adoration from Sorey mix within them, thoughts muddling as their thumb swipes over the head of their cock, smearing the translucent bead of precum pooling there. The whole head of the cock glistens from it, fingers running down and back up, smoother now that they get a reaction from it.

Their thoughts are a weird mess, completely unlike their usual perfect synchronization in battle. That is not to say they aren't synced, but there's too many thoughts, too many words floating around, like ' _you sound so great_ ,' ' _I'm not speaking_ ,' ' _god, your_ hand—' ' ** _our_ **_hand_ —!!'

One of them — or both, there's no differentiating them like this — thinks it'd be great to be able to kiss, but there's no drive to separate themselves, only the need to keep going like this, to stay together, as close as we can, _ah_ , it's so _good_ , keep going, please, ** _please_** —

Their desperate cries cut off into a wanton noise, a moan of both their voices, blending together so easily it becomes almost indistinguishable.

"Sor—" they moan loudly, squeezing their eyes closed as their grip tightens, wrist twisting as it goes down. Their thumb keeps running over the head of their weeping cock, just the way Sorey always loves it, and it makes their toes curl and spine tingle.

Their free hand moves from their face up to their hair, fisting in their hair as they fruitlessly try to ground themselves, too far gone with all the pleasure pooling in their abdomen. Having their eyes closed makes it so much worse, too - _better, you mean_ — Sorey!

They focus on the way it floods their veins, fills them out from within with molten lava, places a haze on their mind, clouding the only clear thoughts they're left with, which are nothing but a mesh of 'more!' and 'oh god, oh _god_!'

"Mikleo! Sore— Mi— Mik— ey!" they gasp, breathlessly, hips pushing forward and into their fist, seeking more friction, more of each other.

Their release somehow catches them off guard, breath stuttering and getting stuck in their throat, resulting in them opening their mouth in a soundless scream as their back arches, thighs shaking and fingers white where they grip their locks. White splatters cover their abdomen and their hand keeps going somehow, until they whimper and almost have to force it away.

Chest heaving, they stay like that, curling up on themselves as they wipe the cum off of their stomach and onto the covers lazily, carelessly.

Sorey doesn't even get to ask before Mikleo's voice resounds in their had, as breathless as they feel. "I don't want to separate yet. That was…" Heat rises up to their cheeks anew even as a soft smile curls their lips. "…great."

"A compliment, even?"

They feel the phantom eye roll without moving their eyes. ' _I'm tired_ ,' Mikleo's side murmurs, but really, it's both of them, and they curl up tighter.

"We're tired," their lips echo, "Let's take a nap like this."

It's not like they were going to protest in the first place. After all, it had been their idea. So they curl up as much as they can, pulling a blanket over themselves and holding it close with both arms.

It doesn't feel as comfortable as holding each other, but it feels closer this way, and closer is what they want right now.


End file.
